


Blame

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Episode: s08e12 As Time Goes By, Family Bonding, Gen, Sam Winchester-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Sam chat after Dean storms out of the hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame

**Author's Note:**

> This was written when I received this prompt: Henry reacting to hearing about the apocalypse properly.

Henry sat back in his chair, slightly stunned, a reaction to the abrupt exit made by his future grandson. The wall shook from the slamming door as a thousand different sensations of guilt and confusion washed over him.

"Sorry about Dean," said his second future grandson, still seated to his right at the table. 

Henry sighed. “Don’t apologize. Clearly you two weren’t brought up in the best situation.”

"But that’s not your fault. This story hasn’t been nailed down, yet. Maybe there is a way to get you back there…" Sam trailed off as Henry shook his head. 

"I just can’t imagine what John must have gone through, believing his whole life that I didn’t love him enough to return to him." Henry seemed to go very far away. "And to be confronted with what’s out there with no proper training at all." His eyes bore into Sam, regret etched across his face. "And how that must’ve impacted yours and Dean’s upbringing—"

"It was rough, like Dean said, but we were prepared," Sam tried to assure him. "It wasn’t perfect, but we managed. Our methods were just different. The goals were the same."

"I suppose." Henry chewed on his bottom lip, unconvinced, when suddenly something struck him. "I’ve noticed your brother his slightly dramatic—"

"—Ha, yeah."

"—but he said something that I can’t decide if it was hyperbolic or not."

Sam looked slightly amuse. “Which bit?”

"The  _'we stopped the friggin' apocalypse'_  bit.”

"Oh," Sam straightened up. "No, that was literal. That really happened."

As the shock settled in, Henry’s eyebrows raised slowly, creasing his forehead in a familiar pattern, like Sam’s. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he breathed. Pride seemed to creep into his expression as he leaned forward to hear more. “How did the two or you go about it?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Uh, it was a last resort kind of thing—”

"But you stopped it? You saved the world?"

Sam’s shrugged his shoulders but nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

"That must have been unbelievably difficult for you two to do."

"Well, we had help. There was an angel friend of ours there, and Bobby. He was like our…er, father."

Henry looked wounded for just a second before recovering and moving on to ask, “How did you do it? I must know, how did my grandsons stop the apocalypse?”

Sam did not want to go into the gritty details. It was not a fond memory. He took down Lucifer from the inside, he threw him into the Cage, but he had gone in, too. And while he would do it over agian in a second to preserve the world and allow Dean a chance to live, thinking about everything that went along with that was never fun.

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, now keep in mind it was our last resort,” he said, holding his hands up psuedo-defensively. “But, we had to get the rings of the Four Horsemen to open this portal to a special place in Hell —it’s called the Cage— then I had to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer and jump into it.”

There was such an expression of horror on Henry’s face, Sam pretty much regretted ever saying a word to him about anything ever. He dropped his eyes away from his grandfather who he’d only known for a few hours, his young face full of judgment. It never took long for Sam’s family members to find a reason Sam was tainted. This pretty much fit the pattern. But he felt stupid for offering this one up even though he had felt like he could be open with Henry, for some reason. Clearly he was wrong. 

"You… you overthrew Lucifer, the  _archangel_?” Henry’s horror began to melt into awe.

Sam nodded feebly.

"And you…you," Henry stuttered on. "You gave consent to Lucifer himself to possess your body, and then you —your body and mind and soul and heart— overthrew his hold on you, and you jumped into Hell?"

"Basically," Sam muttered. "But Dean was there, and he wouldn’t leave me. It helped me break through.." Sam trailed off, unsure if the glisten in Henry’s eyes were tears.

"Sam!" Henry exclaimed. "That’s  _incredible_!” He stood up out of his chair. “The Men of Letters have studied angel possesion, consent, and the hold of grace on an individual for years and to take control back?That’s… that’s nearly unheard of without the angel’s cooperation. But you gripped Lucifer and dragged him back to Hell?”

A weak smile formed on Sam’s face. “I let him out, I should have been the one to put him back.”  _He should know the whole truth before he gets too excited._

Henry cocked his head at his future grandson. “What do you mean?”

"I was the one who started the whole thing." This was the first thing Sam said with confidence since they got on the subject. 

"No, that’s impossible," Henry said with finality, slightly towering over the seated Sam.

 _Here it is,_  Sam thought. _Here’s where the disappointment will come in._

 _“_ It’s true, though—”

"No, son," Henry insisted again. "You’re talking to a Man of Letters. All we did was study over things likes this, we couldn’t be inducted until we were tested over mounds of research about it. And we all know —or knew, rather— that Lucifer couldn’t be let out of his prison without the falling of 66 Seals. Did you knock over 66 Seals, Sam?"

Sam stared up at his grandfather, and it was the first time he actually kind of  _felt_  like Henry was his grandfather, though he knew this guy was currently just about the same age as he was. Sam shook his head in response. 

"Then it wasn’t you. It wasn’t just you." 

Gratitude showed on Sam’s face. He nodded silently, though he wasn’t sure if the guilt he felt could ever really be explained away. He appreciated Henry for trying. He appreciated Henry for seeing things that way.

Sam felt Henry squeeze his shoulder. ”The Winchesters were supposed to be legacies of the Men of Letters,” he mused, “but it seems you two are building legacies of your own without that.” He smiled down at Sam briefly, then took a seat back at the table next to him. Sam smiled back then slid John’s journal over to him.


End file.
